


way too many people in the addison lee

by snsk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crack, Humor, M/M, au- nobody dies!!!, lmao p, no real spoilers, the nogitsune plays matchmaker, these are the games they play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jeez," the nogitsune said. He might as well cut to the chase. "Does Stiles like you? Like. <em>Like you</em> like you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	way too many people in the addison lee

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [way too many people in the addison lee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447735) by [meanwhile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanwhile/pseuds/meanwhile)



> listen friends this some dumb crack umm let's see the nogitsune is inside stiles and refers to the body as theirs, and when he talks to stiles whoever's listening in can only hear the nogitsune's part of the conversation cause stiles doesn't have control. that's pretty much all you need to know

When the nogitsune first saw Danny, he widened their eyes and asked: "Is that him?"

"Leave him alone," Stiles said immediately, all growly like the werewolves he ran around with.

It wasn't him, the nogitsune could feel it, even though Stiles obviously cared about Danny a lot. "And there's no-- no him, anyway. What are you talking about?"

The nogitsune rolled their eyes. "I know there's a boy," he said. "I just don't know who."

In theory, he had taken over Stiles' body, and did have access to most of his thoughts and memories. But Stiles wasn't exactly weak, and he still had some things blocked. Not exactly blocked-- there was a cover of smoke shrouding the images, he was obscuring them with overdone indifference, lack of emotion. But then again, this particular thing, the nogitsune was pretty sure Stiles was still half in denial about.

Stiles shrugged. "You know I like Lydia," he said, like he'd repeated this a thousand times before.

The nogitsune hmmed, probing. Stiles glared. 

"You used to. It's faded now. You love her. You don't _like her_ like her."

" _Like her_ like her? What are you, nine? Don't you have some murder and shit to get up to?"

"This is fun," the nogitsune said plaintively. He probed some more, and Stiles immediately threw up mental roadblocks with BACK OFF in neon orange flashing lights.

"Go away," he snapped. "Go take candy from a kid or something. Better yet, get out of here for forever."

"Does his name start with J?" the nogitsune asked, instead, because never let it be known he did not try.

"Give it up," Stiles said, snorting. "And don't hurt Danny."

The nogitsune had actually been planning to be civil to Danny. He was cute, not the boy Stiles wanted to hide from him, but cute enough that the nogitsune wanted to drop sleek sexual innuendos in the conversation and touch his arm unnecessarily and leave him flustered and bemused, because dark spirits did know how to get what they wanted. 

He left it at that, though. Stiles had said not to hurt him, and the nogitsune had, like. A mystery to solve.

"You done?" Stiles asked, when they left the bar. The nogitsune could feel the mental eye roll.

"Hardly," he said.

 

When they met Scott, the nogitsune was doubtful, because Stiles quite obviously saw Scott as his best friend, his brother, but it didn't hurt to not leave stones unturned, did it?

Stiles laughed so hard he made the body the nogitsune was supposed to be in control of double up with his full-body cackle.

"Go ahead," he wheezed. "Try flirting with Scott, go on."

The nogitsune scowled. "No thanks," he said. 

Scott approached them warily. 

"I wanna talk to Stiles," he said.

"Stiles is unavailable," the nogitsune said, rolling his eyes. "Oh-- wait. Unless you tell me. Who is Stiles crushing on?"

"He doesn't know," Stiles told him, smirking.

Scott looked blank. "Lydia, duh," he said.

"Told you he doesn't know," Stiles said.

"You're _supposed_ to be his best friend!" the nogitsune informed Scott huffily.

"I am," Scott said, indignant. A sudden shadow of guilt passed over his soul; the nogitsune lapped it up. "I suppose I could've been a better one, recently."

Stiles was quiet for once.

"Well," the nogitsune said awkwardly. It was no fun when he couldn't rile Stiles up. "See you around."

 

If nothing else, the conversation with Scott had proved to the nogitsune that Stiles did have someone else in mind. 

He tried Lydia.

Stiles said, "Oh come on, like she'd know."

"Lydia Martin," the nogitsune said, ignoring him. 

She raised a perfect brow at him, tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Evil Japanese fox spirit."

"You know how Stiles has been in love with you for years?" 

"Shut up," Stiles said disgruntledly.

"Yes," Lydia said, in an _uh, duh_ kind of tone. She looked like she had a thousand other more important things that needed to be done; the way she was tapping a high heel said, like researching how to kick your ass out of Stiles.

"Who's got him to stop?" the nogitsune asked.

This gave her pause, like he'd finally said something interesting.

"Why should I tell you?" she enquired.

"How do you even know?" Stiles said incredulously.

"Stiles wants to know how you even know," the nogitsune said helpfully.

Lydia huffed. "He's your type," she said. "Are we done here?"

"Type?" Stiles demanded. "What does that even mean, Lydia!"

"Type," the nogitsune repeated, amused. "What does that even mean, Lydia."

Lydia waved a hand. "Y'know. Intimidating. Hot. Unattainable in your own head." She fluttered the hand towards herself, and stepped back into her vehicle. "Are we done here?" she asked, and didn't wait for an answer before she slammed the door and sped off.

Stiles felt shell-shocked. 

"So," the nogitsune said brightly. "Intimidating. Hot. Unattainable in your own head."

"Be quiet," Stiles groaned.

 

There were actually a couple of people who fitted that description in Stiles' head. 

"I thought you thought it was a he," Stiles commented, giving nothing away as they pulled up in front of the Argents' place.

"You could've been trying to throw me off," the nogitsune said, shrugging.

"Maybe." Stiles was smirking again. The nogitsune, much to his own concern, was actually growing to like this obnoxious kid. He reminded him a lot of a younger version of himself, mischief running rampant. Before centuries made chaos and misery easier.

Anyway. 

Allison Argent came out into the sun, arms crossed. There was an array of weapons hidden around her person: against her thigh, in her bra, cushioned by her sock and in the front pocket of the pretty white sundress.

"If this isn't a negotiation about getting you out of Stiles, then I'm not having this conversation," she announced. "Lydia says you're up to some dumb shit, wasting everybody's time. I don't know what you're doing, but you don't get to waste mine."

"Jeez," the nogitsune said. He might as well cut to the chase. "Does Stiles like you? Like. _Like you_ like you?"

She looked even more pissed off. "Is this relevant to getting you out of Stiles?"

"I might be more inclined to, actually, once I find this out."

"And ruin it, whatever it is."

"Did I say that?" the nogitsune asked her huffily. God.

"Why don't you just ask Stiles," she said.

The nogitsune tried not to sound pouty. "He won't tell me."

Allison let out a bark of laughter, then. "Good on you, Stilinski," she said. 

"Thanks, Argent," Stiles said, doing a mental salute.

The nogitsune refused to pass on the message.

Allison quirked up the corner of her mouth in a grin. "Stiles loves Scott too much to even think about it," she said assuredly. "And I think Scott would have smelled it by now."

 

"This is just an insult," Stiles said sadly. "This is a fucking travesty. Don't insult us like this. Don't use my body for this."

The assuredly handsome face of Jackson Whittemore popped up on the Skype screen, looking rich and bored and lounging.

"Intimidating," the nogitsune reminded Stiles. "Hot. Unattainable. You're not telling me, so I'm figuring it out."

Jackson frowned, pixelated image shifting forwards. "What's that you're saying, Stilinski?"

"I'll save you the trouble: it's not this douchebag," Stiles sniffed.

"Hi, Jackson," the nogitsune said.

"What do you want, Stiles," Jackson said, managing to convey his complete displeasure at seeing him even through thousands of miles and a shitty broadband connection. "I'm not lifting the restraining order."

"Restraining order?" the nogitsune repeated.

Stiles sighed. "You know, the one he placed because of the whole kidnapping and restraining him in a white van thing?" he said. "Dude, you have access to my body and mind, use it."

"No, I remember," the nogitsune said. "I just don't think I bothered to find out about the restraining order. He really doesn't like you, does he?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and let the nogitsune enter the kanima period of his life. His suspicion, irritation and gradual grudging tolerance of Jackson were shouting clear. It really didn't feel like there were any hidden smoldering feelings there.

No, there was someone Stiles was sort of hiding from him, under the cover of denial and sarcasm and forced indifference.

"Fine," the nogitsune said. "Bye now, Jackson."

"Knew you'd go around the bend someday," Jackson returned, staring with raised eyebrows at what was, to him, Stiles holding a one-sided conversation with himself.

 

Cora Hale's name was saved in Stiles' phone as FEMALE CLONE HALE.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the nogitsune asked.

"Means she's exactly like her brother," Stiles said blithely. "Right down to the epic Sauron-eyed scowl."

"What, Stiles," Cora said. "Is Derek okay?"

"He's fine," the nogistune answered blithely. What, he hadn't remembered hurting Derek Hale. "So, about that kiss."

"D'you have to say it like that," Stiles sighed.

"What the fuck, Stiles, I'm not going to be his replacement," Cora snapped, sounding staticky and more done than Jackson, was that even possible. "Man up and talk to him, don't embarrass both of us."

She hung up.

"Him," the nogistune said thoughtfully.

"We've come full circle, then," Stiles agreed, grinning.

 

"Is it Vernon Boyd?" he asked, although Stiles' feelings on that were nothing more than happiness and relief that he and Erica had escaped, a couple of IMs keeping him assured that they were safe and well and happy.

"You're grasping at straws, man," Stiles said pityingly. "I would never dare risk Erica's wrath."

They were on the edge of the forest, leaning against a tree trunk. Footsteps started crunching towards them, more than one pair.

"D'you think they've figured put how to get me out of you yet?" the nogitsune enquired.

Stiles hummed a shrugging sort of note. "You know I know as much as you do."

Stiles' pack appeared into view; Scott, Lydia, Allison, Derek, Kira, Isaac, the twins-- not yet quite pack but edging closer each day-- "Don't trust them so much," the nogitsune murmured, "yeah, thought so," Stiles said.

Chris Argent, Sheriff Stilinski, Deaton, all forming a circle around them.

"It's disgusting here," the nogitsune told Stiles. "All full of love and shit."

"Yeah, they tend to project that a lot. Sorry," Stiles said.

"I think you should just tell him, Stiles," Lydia said. "Or we could do it our way, which is gonna hurt the crap out of him."

"She's right, there's no third option," sighed the nogitsune. "I'm annoyingly stubborn."

"There's nothing to tell!" Stiles protested. The nogitsune relayed this to the group. "I don't see why it's so important anyway, it's a stupid crush and saying it out'll do nothing but embarrass me, and just get him out, c'mon, I don't care about the pain. Just get out already," he added to the nogitsune, huffily.

"Stiles," Scott said beseechingly, all puppy eyes, "please, you promised you wouldn't get hurt."

Stiles groaned, long and loud. "Can he not-- with the," he said. "Can we look away from him, c'mon." 

"Don't be stupid, Stiles," Derek growled.

"Don't _you_ start!" Stiles snarked back. The nogitsune didn't bother relaying the message.

"I suppose it wouldn't work if one of us told him," said Kira.

"Nah," the nogitsune said apologetically. "Gotta come from him."

"Do all of you know?!" Stiles demanded.

"Do all of you know," the nogitsune said interestedly.

Most of them shuffled their feet guiltily. Lydia and Allison shrugged, unashamed, and the rest-- the twins, Derek, Scott-- still looked confused.

"Jeez," Stiles muttered. He gained enough control in his embarrassment to bang their head back against the tree.

"Ow," the nogitsune complained.

"So we're at, like, a fuckin' lockmate here," one of the twins-- Stiles had never really bothered to remember which was which-- said.

"It's called a stalemate," Derek corrected resignedly. The nogitsune could feel Stiles' smile at that.

Something clicked in the nogitsune's head, suddenly.

"Stiles," the sheriff said, before the nogitsune could figure it out. "Son, jeez, just tell him what he wants to know, this is getting a bit silly. Come on, son, you're smarter than this."

Stiles groaned long and loud at his dad, too.

"God!" he said. "Fine, fine, _fucking_ fine," and it was like a dam had broken, memories the nogitsune remembered suddenly stripped of the carefully placed illusion of mutual dislike and vague tolerance, and the nogitsune could see now, the undercurrent of longing and want and surprised laughter out of Stiles when--

When Derek bent over a map, cross-legged, and said something completely dry and unexpected and hilarious.

The desire that ran through Stiles like a live wire when--

A pool, a vet's backroom, a hospital. Roscoe. Stiles' bedroom. A summer.

He was brought back from the memories with a jolt, Stiles' jolt, Stiles who was blushing furiously and saying: "Yeah. Well. Yeah. Now you know."

"Well. That's not so bad," the nogitsune  said. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"

"'cause it's embarrassing, fuck," Stiles moaned, flushing even redder. "I can't deal with two long-burning unrequited crushes when I haven't even reached my twenties, and he'd probably rip my throat out with his--"

"Oh, enough of that," the nogitsune sniffed. "He likes you. He cares about you."

"You're a centuries old chaotic spirit, and you're trying to play matchmaker? Really?"

"He likes you," the nogitsune sing-songed.

"Whatever," Stiles sighed. "Get out of here already."

"Fine," the nogitsune said, and used the last of his control of Stiles' body to fall forward into a dead slump.

Derek was the first one there, cradling Stiles' head in his palms before it hit the forest floor, ever so gently.

The nogitsune grinned up at him. "Told you he liked you, Stiles," he said out loud so Derek could hear, and fled before Stiles could straight up murder him or something.

x


End file.
